Never Happened
by NairobiWonders
Summary: I needed some anxiety reducing joanlock … So I wrote some. Kitty is away, the relationship with Andrew is over, and Sherlock and Joan are spending some time together. The best way to describe it is fluffy, borderline smutty treacle with no insight or purpose other than distraction (actually don't get your hopes up, it's not really smutty) This was previously posted on tumblr.


Joan hadn't meant to stay this long. The work on the case they shared was done and she and Sherlock finished the admin work necessary to meet NYPD requirements hours ago. Time slipped away. It was ten in the evening and she and Sherlock were on their knees, elbow to elbow in cramped quarters, rummaging through his closet of odd and sundry electronic devices for a videotape rewinder. He wanted to show her how the assembly of the apparatus could be used for surveillance purposes. A totally absurd conversation full of what ifs and off the wall scenarios had preceded their foray into the closet. The only purpose to all this was to keep her there a little longer. Joan knew it, but she chose to stay. It'd been a long time since they had done anything together just for fun.

The hunt for the rewinder intensified. She nudged him with her elbow and he gave her retaliatory nudge back.

"No. That box in the back. Lift the lid." She ordered and he did. Sherlock stretched forward, and strained to reach the box lid almost losing his balance. She grabbed at his belt and kept him from tumbling.

He stated as he flipped the box lid open and inventoried its contents, "Nope. Walkmans, dictaphones and assorted headsets."

"Why do you keep all this stuff?"

He sat back on his haunches and surveyed the cartons before him. "I think the better question is why don't I label all these boxes."

Joan spotted another likely candidate and leaned into him a little, "How about that one?" She pointed with her chin, still leaning up against him. He gave her a side long glance to confirm what he thought he was sensing. They were not usually comfortable sharing this sort of proximity.

"Looks promising..." He started to reach for it and Joan stopped him.

"Here, I'm a little closer." She placed her hand on his shoulder for support while she reached to lift the lid on a box.

"Got it," she triumphantly pulled the rewinder out and gave his shoulder a small squeeze as she lifted herself to her feet. "Come on."

He got up, turned the closet light off, and followed through the room into the dim hall way. She stood by the stairs, in the dark, waiting for him. The rewinder had been placed on the hall table. They stood facing each other for a second to make sure each had read the other right. Satisfied, his hand moved towards her, his index finger made its way on to her arm and slowly traced a path down to her wrist. His other fingers joined in feathery strokes that spread onto her palm. Joan stood enjoying the sensation, letting him lead the way. Sherlock took her hand in his and brought her open palm to his lips, placing small, tender kisses that caused a small gasp to escape her lips. Joan's fingers curved around his face and caressed his cheek as his kisses turned more passionate. Her other hand found its way to his waist, made its way beneath his tshirt and caressed his warm well-muscled chest.

Sherlock's lips left her hand. He nuzzled, his open mouth dragged up her neck, until he found her mouth, open and ready to devour him. His hands clasped her bottom and squeezed a moan of pleasure from her. She felt his body react to her moan instantaneously as he pressed her tight to him. Joan held on and slowly moved over him, causing him to growl with desire.

This was not the first time they shared in this type of behavior. Several times during their cohabitation, they took freedoms with each other. Never discussed it. Never acknowledged it. Physical desire was sated, at least partially, and they then went back to being Holmes and Watson. They'd never actually had sex, but tonight they were coming close. He pulled away fearing he was losing control.

She pulled him back.

"We need to stop, or I won't ..." he managed to get the words out just barely.

"Where exactly is Kitty?" She whispered into his chest as she tried to control her breathing ...

"Away, survival training in the wilds of Jersey..." He placed several light kisses in her hair, his hands still holding her small frame to him.

"Mmm ... Let's not stop then ..." Joan brought her face up and stared into his eyes.

"Are we going to be able to pretend this didn't happen?" Sherlock traced her lips with his finger.

"What didn't happen?" Joan answered as she kissed his finger.

Sherlock intensified his efforts and she let a soft sound pass from her lips directly to his ear. "If we are going to pretend this didn't happen, perhaps we can pretend it didn't happen several times ..."


End file.
